


a consummation devoutly to be wished

by leiascully



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-17
Updated: 2011-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I do love a bit of destiny."</p>
            </blockquote>





	a consummation devoutly to be wished

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: sometime post-6.04 "The Doctor's Wife" but few spoilers  
> A/N: Thanks to good old Bill Shakespeare for the title; I can't believe I haven't used it before. It was really hard to get the Doctor into bed, so cheers for [**coffeesuperhero**](http://coffeesuperhero.livejournal.com/), who keeps me honest. This follows up on the events of [Caught between madness and gladness of flight](http://leiascully.livejournal.com/821142.html), so there you are, [**gidget_zb**](http://gidget-zb.livejournal.com/).  
>  Disclaimer: _Doctor Who_ and all related characters are the property of Russell T. Davies, Stephen Moffat, and BBC. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

A Time Lord's body was a miracle indeed, thought River as she looked into the Doctor's eyes. She'd asked a xenobiologist once what and who he was. A miracle, that was the answer she'd gotten: nearly human, but beyond. Two hearts instead of one. Able to withstand indefinitely the incredible strain of traveling through space and time. Immortal or nearly so, with the ability to regenerate, to build himself a new body out of the spare material of the universe. A miracle, standing right in front of her in his braces and his stupid bow tie.

"So tell me, River Song," he said in a low sexy voice, as if he had no idea what he did to her insides. Probably he didn't. "Tell me what it's like to have a love life. Tell me what it's like to have love."

"It's everything," she said simply. "When it's with the right one, anyway."

"How romantic of you," he murmured. "And here I thought you were so cosmopolitan. You're a hardened criminal, my girl."

"Not so hard," she said. "Everything I did was for the love of you. You'll see, someday."

"I imagine I will," he said. He picked up her hand and studied her fingers. "One day there won't be any secrets between us, River."

"One day soon," she promised him. "But not today." With her other hand she traced the line of his braces up his chest and down his belly. She tapped her nail on the metal bit. The lining of his jacket was silky against the back of her hand, but the lapped-over tweed prickled her wrist. The cloth was warm from his body. He watched her carefully, those wise eyes searching her face as she avoided his gaze.

"What will you tell me today, Doctor Song?" he asked quietly. "Because I feel funny, lately. In fact, I feel really quite odd when you're around. Sort of...off-balance. My head's all wibbly and my hearts are all wobbly. Is that what love feels like?"

"Surely you've been in love before," she said.

"It's different now," he said. "I'm him but I'm not. I'm the Doctor but I'm me. I remember I've been in love before, but _I_ haven't been in love before. Not this time around."

"I'm not a girl for just one time around," she told him.

"No," he said. "I can't imagine." He stared at her, his lips just barely parted, his expression some combination of trepidation, anticipation, and clumsy adolescent lust. She slipped her finger under his braces and traced the length of them again, a pang of sympathy shooting through her. She had that same look, years ago, years from now, when he finally kissed her for the first time. It didn't matter when she met him: no matter how mature she was, he made her as swoony as a teenager, weak in the knees with butterflies in her stomach and the feeling that if she couldn't see him, if she couldn't touch him, if she couldn't _have_ him, she might die.

"Have you done this before?" she asked him.

"I already said I haven't been in love this time," he reminded her.

She chuckled. "Oh, sweetie, there's love and there's this. You can have one without the other if you like."

"Humans." He considered, staring intently at her. "I have a door in my head like Rory the Roman. Lots of doors. They open and close and open and close and it's all I can do to know my own mind. I've been an awful lot of people while I was being me. I suppose I have to keep secrets from myself, or I'd never be able to fiddle the switches of a morning. Got to keep her flying, you know. Can't just be mulling things over all the time, remembering the good old days. I don't ask myself what I did when I was him. The big things, yeah, the timey-wimey bits. But not the other stuff. New face, new start. No questions asked. Or not too many. Obviously some things are a bit crucial to know. But this equipment's all new still - I only just got the teeth feeling normal."

"Sweetie, are you wittering?" She tugged gently at his braces. He swayed toward her as if she had hauled him closer.

"Absolutely not," he scoffed. "I don't witter. I'm the Doctor. Everything I say is extremely cool and clever. Mind you, I do go on a bit sometimes, but that's just my thought process and yes, yes, I might be wittering, just a little. But it's not because I'm nervous. And I don't think I'm a..." he lowered his voice and leaned in close to her ear, his lips tickling her hair, "a virgin. For God's sake, I'm nine hundred and nine years old. I must have done this before. In nine hundred years, there must have been someone I loved this way. Several someones, I imagine. I nearly remember, but it's those things I don't think about, because a man ought to have some privacy in his own future self's head. But surely I've...you know."

"Oh, _I_ know," she assured him. "Believe me, sweetie, I know. The question is whether you know, at this point, and how much you'd like to."

His face was so bloody close to her face she could feel his breath. He still held one of her hands, his thumb moving idly over her knuckles. She held him hypnotized, it felt; at any moment she could click her fingers and bring him out of it, or crook them and bring him to heel. But she was waiting, waiting for his yes, his first yes, his last yes. But there they were in that moment of breathless stasis. It was a shining bubble of time, one golden moment that could change the paths of their lives. Would she wake up tomorrow with no memories of him? No memories of them together? She breathed in the heat of his skin, the slightly spicy Doctor scent of him that she knew and loved so well. She waited. Just this moment, she'd give him the control. She remembered how it went, but he had to start it. He had to feel that he'd started it.

"Tell me," he breathed. The tip of his nose brushed hers and she felt his hair graze her forehead. "It's high time I lived a little bit. You've as good as told me you're my destiny, River Song. And I do love a bit of destiny."

He kissed her: tentative and tender, his kiss was, but thorough. His hands rose to cup the sides of her face. She made fists of her own hands in the fabric of his shirt, his braces taut against her palms. He made a needy little noise, an 'mmm' of satisfaction and of desire, and she almost laughed out of delight at how perfect it was. She pulled him tighter against her until his hips collided with hers. She teased his lips apart to deepen the kiss and his mouth opened against hers, easy as breathing. His tongue flicked against hers and oh, he'd definitely done this before in some regeneration or another. One of his hands slid down to the small of her back, holding her hard against him, and some bits of him certainly seemed to know what was happening.

"Memories returning?" she murmured, breaking away for a moment to nuzzle his unbearably precious face. Her Doctor, her Doctor.

"It's a bit like riding a bicycle," he said back. "The remembering part, mind, not the pedaling. There is some straddling, though, and definitely you ought to hold on if you're riding with River Song."

"Oh, do shut up," she said, and stopped his smiling mouth with hers.

His hands wandered up and down her back as she tugged his bow tie loose; it slithered out from under his collar at her pressure and she dropped it to the floor. There were seven buttons on his shirt and she undid them slowly, her fingernails clicking against the plastic; she was glad of the height that kept his back arched as he bent to kiss her and gave her hands room to roam. The fabric of his shirt was both crisp and supple, redolent of detergent and skin and the whiff of adventures. The skin underneath was soft as she scraped her nails lightly over the smattering of hair on his chest. Her beautiful Doctor - beautiful idiot, the TARDIS had called him, back when River had been learning to fly her, and wouldn't that be a high point in his life, when they found out _exactly_ what the TARDIS' telepathic interface could mean to the three of them. Anyway, it suited him.

He was kissing her more urgently now, just a little bit bitey, and she tugged the tails of his shirt out of his trousers, the fabric bunched under his braces, and let her hands explore his torso: the long muscles of his back (his braces pulled tight over her arms), the slight bulge of his belly, his ticklish ribs (he squirmed a bit but didn't let her go), the broad plane of his chest, his prominent collarbones, his tender throat. He made another noise, slightly more of a growl this time, and she couldn't help moaning in answer. God, for a relative amateur in this life, he was _really_ good at this.

She gave up his mouth and kissed her way across his jaw and down the side of his neck, nipping gently at him; he pressed his face against her head and murmured nonsense syllables of longing into her hair. " _River_ ," he said, and she felt the rumble of it through his skin as she kissed him, and she felt the need in him where his body trembled against hers.

"I'll be gentle, my love," she told the gorgeous hollow of his shoulder.

"I trust you," he whispered.

She drew back to look at his face; his eyes were wide and bright and eager. "A bad girl like me?"

"Your past is my future," he said. "Anyhow, I love a bad girl. And when she loves me, well. I'd be a fool to pass up this adventure. Whatever you are, whoever you are, you love me. I trust that."

"I do love you," she said softly.

"I know," he said. "I'm getting there." A panicked look crossed his face and he untangled himself from her embrace. "Just...give us a mo'. There's something I need to do. I'll be right back. I promise." He dropped a kiss on her forehead and fled from the room.

She felt cold and very alone and she wasn't even the one pelting down the corridor. She crossed her arms over her chest. Well, she wasn't going to stop trusting him now. If he said he'd be back, he would be, and there wasn't any reason to play over a hundred different scenarios in her head of reasons he might never return. Didn't stop her, though. She pushed back her hair and sighed. The TARDIS swayed and made its familiar noise as they rematerialized somewhere. Bless, he would leave the brakes on. Five minutes later, the TARDIS protested again and they were on their way. She heard the clatter of his feet in the corridor. He was scampering back, sliding almost past the hatch before he caught the edge of it and hauled himself in. He pulled the door shut behind him and leaned against it for a moment, grinning. If possible, he looked even more disheveled than before, his hair mussed and his shirt crumpled. His blazer was slipping off one shoulder.

"And where were you, my love?" she asked.

"I owed you a very stiff kiss a few weeks from now," he said, striding across the room. "Spoilers. Now where were we? Ah yes." He ducked his head and kissed her so ardently it startled her, and only his arms around her kept her from sliding to the floor as her knees went weak. She whimpered against his lips and he responded and oh, it was a good thing they were in a ship with nice thick walls because they were about to make a _lot_ of noise. Every time he made a sound, it went right through her, and her moans seemed to have the same effect on him from the way he kept pulling her closer and closer against him. She scrabbled at his jacket, shoving it down his shoulders until he had to release her to shake his arms free. She took advantage of the opportunity to unclip his braces and divest him of his shirt as well; he grinned like a maniac and his skin gleamed pale in the light of the TARDIS.

"Well?"

She looked him over as blatantly as she could. "Not bad," she said judiciously.

"Tit for tat, Doctor Song," he said, smirking. "I lost mine. Now it's your turn."

"Fair enough," she said, and reached for the zip of her shirt. She pulled the tab down ever so slowly, watching him watch her. She flung her shirt on a chair. He studied her, arms crossed over his bare chest. She crossed hers too, under her breasts.

"Is that what you look like underneath your clothes?" he demanded.

"For a while now," she said, amused.

"Then how do I get any work done around you?" he asked.

She laughed in delight. "Get the rest of your kit off, you daft man."

"You know what they say," he said, sauntering over to her. "Four hands are better than two."

"Do they really say that?" she asked as their wrists bumped together in their urgency to undo each other's trousers.

"Nah," he said, winking at her from under the fall of his hair. "Just wanted to get mine back on you."

"Flirt," she teased.

"Just trying to keep up," he said back. His trousers slipped down his slim hips and she helped them along their way as she wriggled out of her own. She kicked off her boots and he took off his shoes and then they were both standing there in nothing but their underthings, gazing at each other.

"I remember this much," he said, and reached around to unhook her bra as he kissed her ear. She shivered as he eased the straps down her shoulders and undid the clasp. "Hey, first try!"

"You ridiculous man," she said tenderly. "My Doctor."

"My River," he said. "We're for each other then."

"To the end of the universe," she promised.

"No time to waste," he said, and kissed her again, his long fingers fumbling at her knickers as she yanked his boxers down. His hands explored her hips, her ass, her thighs, and then slipped between her thighs and she gasped in earnest.

"Ahh," he said in apparent satisfaction.

"Mmmm," she agreed, clutching at him. She pivoted back on her heel and they tumbled onto the bed together. It was easier to line their bodies up, their legs tangling together and their skin pressed together, doubling its warmth. She luxuriated in the feel of him, just drinking in the sensation, the two of them touching each other everywhere they could managed. "Oh, God."

"Nah, just me," he said smugly, dipping his head to nuzzle at her collarbones and her cleavage. Before she could do anything, he had slid down her body and peered up at her mischievously over her belly.

"Trust me?"

"Always," she said, caressing the top of his head.

"Shall I?" he asked.

"Please," she breathed. He smiled and leaned against her. He pressed kisses to the fronts of her thighs and gently elbowed her legs apart. She let her knees fall to the sides and he rubbed his cheek against the right one and stroked the backs of her legs gently. He moved slowly down her thigh, kissing and nipping, and her breath got shorter and shorter in anticipation. She squirmed on the bed, a little whimper escaping from her, and he laughed softly and kissed her right where she most wanted his mouth, and her body melted at the touch of his tongue. Her fingers clutched at his hair and she shook slightly, trying to hold still, but it was too much for her, it had been too long since he'd touched her, and biting her lip wasn't helping her be any quieter. His fingertips explored her folds as his tongue found, unerringly, the right spot to make her gasp and moan. Well, he was the Doctor, she thought in flashes, he always knew where he was in space and time and it was a small matter to find one woman's clitoris. Her body felt like it was tesselating, tesseracting, everywhere at once and still right there on the bed, and she couldn't help crying out as the hot white star of pleasure between her hips went supernova, the shock wave going all through her.

"Ahhh," he said. "Still got it, apparently."

"Oh yes," she said, breathing hard. "Come here, you."

He crawled back up her body, looking incredibly pleased with himself. "That was good, was it?"

"Very good," she said, dragging her hands up and down his body. Both their skins were damp with sweat, prickling into gooseflesh in the cool of the TARDIS. But his cock was hot and hard against her pelvis and she reached down to caress it, enjoying the way his eyes squeezed half-closed at her touch. "Just you wait and I'll show you tit for tat."

"Oh, later," he said. "Have to save something for later. Not that we haven't got all the time in the universe, theoretically. But we will be very sleepy, I hear."

"Very practical, sweetie," she said, patting his hip.

"I liked that bit," he confided to her. "Quite an interesting experience. D'you know, I've never heard you make that noise before?"

"Get used to it," she said, and rolled over to straddle his hips. "Even better ones to come."

"I look forward to hearing the entire symphony," he said, touching her face. "Starting now."

"Geronimo," she said softly, and reached down to guide him inside her. Oh, he felt incredible, like coming home, just like every time. It had been too long, though not as long as she had waited, sometimes. She could never get enough of him; from the look on his face and the wonder in his wide eyes, he was feeling the same.

"No wonder the Ponds didn't want their bunk beds," he whispered reverently.

She paused. "You gave them bunk beds? Never mind." She rocked her hips gently and he reached up to stroke her breasts, a look of bliss on his face.

"I wonder if I could record this moment," he said. "Save it forever."

"Nothing's forever," she said. "And the TARDIS might be jealous."

"Nah, she wouldn't," he told her, reaching out one hand to rub the wall. His fingers were cold when he cupped her breast again, rolling his thumbs over her nipples. "She likes you, the TARDIS does. I'm sure I'll find out why some day."

"Yes," she said, tingling all over at the memory. "You will. Now hush." She leaned down to stop his mouth with hers, setting a rhythm with her hips that made them both groan in pleasure. Oh, he was everything: the moons and the stars and the dizzy vista of space and the smell of the air on a new planet and the shivery thrill of a successful mission. He was the whole world, underneath her, everything she'd ever longed for in the depths of her heart and everything she hadn't known she wanted. Her back arched and she sank down, taking him in deeper.

"River," he gasped. "Is it always like this?"

"Oh, there are so many, many variations on the theme," she told him. "But yes, it's always like this."

"I can't wait," he said. "What adventures we'll have."

"You have no idea," she promised and he smiled up at her.

His hands stroked her more and more frantically, his body starting to shake, but it didn't matter; she was just as close to the edge as he was. She couldn't help moaning but he was moaning too, overcome by all of this, by what they made together. He gazed up at her, his face so bright that she was afraid for a moment she'd regenerated him.

"River," he gasped, his eyes locked with hers. "Oh, River."

"Yes, my love," she got out. "It's all right."

"Yes," he said. "Yes, yes, yes, River," and the urgency and the need in his voice and his eyes, the sheer overwhelming adoration tipped her over the precipice and she threw her head back, almost shrieking her delight, and held on tight with her knees as she gave in to her orgasm. He shouted out in what sounded like surprise as well as pleasure and stiffened under her, his hands clutching at her shoulders.

They stayed there a long moment, both shaking a little. He stroked her back and pushed her hair out of her face.

"My River," he said possessively.

"Always," she said, easing down beside him. "My Doctor."

"For all time," he promised. "Ooh, and now I am very sleepy." He yawned.

She dragged her blanket over the two of them, nudging and pushing at him until she could free enough of it to cover their bodies. "Go to sleep then, Time Lord. We've got all the time in the universe, after all."

"Mmm," he said in a sleepy mumble, snuggling up against her. "Sometimes forever hardly seems like enough."

"We'll make it last," she said as her own eyes closed. "You and me, we'll make it last."


End file.
